


LEGAL

by AnonymousCatsAreCool



Category: Original Work
Genre: Brainwashing, Drama, Drugs, Drugs Made Them Do It, Globalization, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Legalization, Mystery, Order, References to Drugs, Thriller, YoungAdult, new world order, world order - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 23:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17949251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousCatsAreCool/pseuds/AnonymousCatsAreCool
Summary: Drugs are legal. Everywhere in a world filled with them mayhem follows. Its now consumed in a shell of what use to be the world five years ago. Slone isn’t the average Junkie that roamed the rich and poor streets. She’s a medic, one that specializes in over doses and the revival. Breaking in the new world order also breaks the millions, and spreads like a disease.





	LEGAL

Constitutional Decree #78  
Detail 5, Paragraph One-  
Signed in on September 2067;  
Following Detail 4, the legalization and sale of Alcohol, under The New world Order of EraPopulace, It Is decree that the distribution of all previous drugs is now legal. Under freedom of intoxication this is now thereby law and binding, though those with a federal job are limited if not swore to the prohibition of drugs. Pharmaceuticals will be the only allowed to manufacture and process high degrees that are not limited but include; Amphetamines, Opioids, Heroine, Hallucinates, and Crack cocaine. (See rest of document for further restrictions)

Chapter One  
My coffee was cold. So were my hands, and the steering wheel. It was winter 2072 in what used to be New York. I sipped it regardless for the taste and caffeine. Trying to stay awake on a twelve-hour shift was grueling. The air was bitter, and I could see the frost fighting to cover the windshield. My partner kept a look out the window of the vehicle but remained silent. She was a woman of few words, as was I, so it never really seemed to be awkward. Though she had made it clear we were doing this for two different reasons. 

No other cars covered the streets, people usually teleported places these days. It was more expensive to keep a car that could travel the roads then to own a simple teleporter. Only those who where high and homeless wandered the street at these times. The roads were rubble and the only reason our car moved on was because of the thick tires, covered in a specialized mesh to handle all the broken syringes and glass that covered the streets.

The radio lit up and a robot electronic spoke coordinates of our call. I shifted gears and picked up the speed. It was illegal to set up shop on the streets, old or the new fancy ones the rich used to drive around. It was crazy how much the world was changing and here I was just trying to survive all this shit. 

“Pull over, they’re in the top apartment.” Silva’s voice was smooth, and she grabbed both medic bags. I put the bars up and locked the car doors, hopping from the truck and following her up and threw the door quickly.

“There were no junkies outside.” She commented to no one in particular. We stepped into a transporter and she said which apartment we would be going to. Then it hummed to life, and our particles where quickly destroyed before being reassembled in the apartment’s private transporter. 

It seemed unsettling, but they had been used for safe travel since before I was born. 

With no more thought I steeped towards the husband, who was leaned over the table a joint in hand, a middle-aged man. He saw me and stood, stubbing the joint. Silva was close behind and he pointed to a back room. 

We walked swiftly into the room. I pulled all my black hair into a pony tail and placed on medical gloves. The patient was the same age as the man. His wife more than likely, but it wasn’t my business to ask questions. She laid on her stomach, almost convulsing and foam poured from her mouth. A needle still in her arm, I quickly removed it. 

It was almost second nature by this point. Though when the machine turned on, I wasn’t ever prepared. Silva pulled the silver machine from one bag. I filled a syringe, and injector that was for easy access and fluid injection, like a quick IV. 

After cleaning it and injecting some saline to clear the vein, Silva handed me the metal tube which I connected, then pushed a tube down her throat. Silva would take over from there. I heard the gurgling and suction, it looked gruesome, terrible that such technology existed. A terrible law that existed. 

The penthouse view was beautiful, you could see exotic birds and things flying round, fancy covered roads allowed people to walk around and over spilling plants and vegetation were everywhere. They seemed happy, but I knew different. What was happening now was proof what goes on behind closed doors. 

“Slone,” Silvas voice turned my attention. I flipped the machine off and she withdrew the tubes, cleaning them and packing it away, nodding towards me. I moved forward, setting up an IV that would clear her system and she would be fine. 

Silva stood once she was done quickly putting things away. I took a medical waste bag and began throwing the syringes and old tubes inside. Taking another look at the patient who had opened her eyes. When she looked and saw me, she glanced at her arm, tied to the IV. She froze before her eyes filled with tears and she turned away. 

I gripped the bags with almost shaky hands and met Silva at the doorway with the man. 

“Thank you, I-, I don’t know what to say.” I was opening my mouth, to say ‘it’s alright, we’re here to help,’ or something like that, but Silvas cruel words cut me short.

“We’re here because we have to be, and this is a one-time service to all, I advise you to be more cautious,” She gestured to his own marks which he hid “Next time, you may not be as lucky.” She handed him a pamphlet, probably to some rich spa they could clearly afford to get some help. With that we stepped back into the transporter and into the truck on another call. 

“I know you think I was harsh, but we can agree, they have to know that we aren’t the answer and that’s not okay.” She was right. We could agree on that. I just wish there was something more we could do.


End file.
